Love Stories

There was an elder
Of mine own
Who spoke of rights
Assured of tone

He longed for pride
Of place on stone
Of pulpit

To look over
Young ones
In their finery

Decry the love
Of Others

When facing our
Tongues are loose

Daze has come
and gone for me
When will again
A mystery

I'll sit in a grove
And speak the truth
With love that even
Forests approve

All may gather
And stories be heard
To embrace the days
Love covered
The earth

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